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Dark Dream Apr 30
I waited for you today
On a bench
Though far away

I thought of words exchanged
Yet none at all
We were estranged

I sang a song of hope
Forgot the words
To help me cope

I remembered a fragrant touch
Of how significant
And oh so much

I spoke alone outside
As I sat on that bench
Trying to hide
The elderly man who used to greet me with a soft smile, while sitting on the bench in front of his lawn, is no longer around!

The bench is still there, yet the elderly man had been replaced by his grim - faced grandson playing on his phone!

As I pass by the bench, I wonder what type of legacy the elderly man had left behind!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
Poetic T Jan 2020
Tome stones of wood
           honouring those
who used to gaze upon
the beauty before them,

     sitting in reflection.

A tiny plaque with
      a name respecting
he loss.

Now others
    sit in respect of the
          one sat here before.

Gazing into the surroundings,
                deep in thought,
of a world passing them by.
Adrian Jan 2020
Even now,
You’ve slipped into my mind, unannounced.
Once again, your absence plagues me,
And I attain more symptoms of love sickness.
I think of how much nicer this serene scene
Would be with you, next to me on this bench.

The cold weather
that’s striking our world
Would be less chilly,
with your warm heart
Resting next to mine.

I’ve started coming here daily,
To rest and ponder.
My mind will aimlessly think,
And my heart will slowly wander,
Cycling in front of my mind,
Obstructing my rational thoughts.
And each day, these cycles grow longer.
It’s a beautiful place. And it is a place that I want to share with someone special.
Ian Sep 2019
As I sit on this bench
I contemplate the future

I imagine what I’ll do tomorrow

I think of what I’ll be when I’m older

I guess when I’ll die

I weigh the options of being alone of with the ones I love
And where I’ll be that final night

I think about the love I have

I think about the love I’ll have next year

Of all of these thoughts from this bench, the saddest is leaving it behind
Colm Sep 2018
If they would dedicate a bench to me, I'd have them lay some fresh concrete, not much, just about four feet.

I'd have them place a pad and rusted seat, between the adult framing trees and paint it green.

And henceforth, it would be known as the writers bench, dedicated to all of the sights left unseen, from that particular spot to be.

But I doubt they'd waste a bench on me.

And perhaps, that spot's better left to the grass and trees.

To the living me.

A quiet, well framed, subtle spot where a man can breathe.
Beauty has a name and it's the view from here.
Maxim Keyfman Aug 2018
sat on a bench
the wind blew strong
played a pipe in the distance
and the sun was somewhere
the wind blew strong
leaf game and wind
I was sitting on the bench
eyes looking at the trees
recalled autumn
recalled former moments
the wind blew strong
leaf game and wind

Özcan Sh Jun 2018
I saw her on a bench
She held a book in her arms
And a pen in her hand
She brandish her pen like the waves on a sea
The ink from the pen was blue as the sky
When her pen touches the paper
Her eyes begin to shine like stars
She loves poetry
Treated the words like jewerly
When she look deep into my eyes
I felt that she wrote a poem
Deep inside my heart.
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